Category Archives: Books

In Which She Enjoys Living In The Future

I love living in the future.

Item one: I can place a reserve for new acquisitions at the library online, check my profile, find out that they’re in before the library calls me, and show up to check them out before they’ve even made it to the reserve drawers. I scored An Echo in the Bone by Diana Gabaldon, Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld (an additional yay for the library taking your advice about new books to buy via online request forms), and Alexander McCall Smith’s The Lost Art of Gratitude. Seriously; check out that trio of bestselling authors! And they’re all on my bedside table. (The books, not the authors. It would be very crowded otherwise.)

Item two: This morning I jumped up and down on Twitter about the hat-trick of library books, because I have friends who understand that sort of thing.

Item three: Two seconds later Peter Gregson, a pro Scottish cellist I follow on Twitter and natter with on occasion, sent me a direct message saying that Sandy McCall Smith is a friend of his, and he’d be happy to pass along anything I might want to share with him.

Yes, the future is a wonderful place, where I can connect with people around the globe, and one of the people on my Twitter list and in our extended cello family knows one of my favourite authors and will say hi for me. (I asked him to say that Smith’s work had brought my ex-pat Scot mum and I much joy. Figured that covered pretty much all the bases.)

What I Read in October 2009

Tithe by Holly Black (reread)
Pilgrim by Timothy Findley (reread)
Grammar Girl’s Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing by Mignon Fogarty
A Pale Horse by Charles Todd
Liar by Justine Larbalestier
The Other Queen by Philippa Gregory
An Indulgence a Day by Andrea Norville & Patrick Menton
Spin Control by Amy King
Pattern Recognition by William Gibson
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling (reread)
Things I Learned From Knitting by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee (reread)
The Drowning City by Amanda Downum
The Thirteenth Child by Patricia Wrede
Howards End by E.M. Forster (reread)

Lots of rereads this month. Hmm. I have a bunch of newish books on hold at the library, though, to be read whenever my turn come sup on the reserve list.

I loved The Thirteenth Child, despite the furor it caused when it was published (OMG, she writes an alternate history of frontier America and doesn’t include Native Americans!!! Well, yeah. So? That’s why it’s called alternate history.) The other book I really enjoyed this month was Justine Larbalestier’s Liar, although it was very problematic in that one has no idea what’s happened at the end of the book. (This isn’t due to authorial incompetence; exactly the opposite, as a matter of fact. It’s brilliantly written and very successful in what it sets out to do with an unreliable narrator.)

Weekend Roundup, Thanksgiving Edition

Friday night I had a good cello lesson. We cleared up some fingerings in the Beethoven symphony, then I said I wanted to work on recital stuff instead of my lesson stuff. I’d been playing on Thursday night with the practice mute (a good hour and a quarter of practice, hurrah, although it meant I didn’t sleep well) and was struggling with making an Air by Bach sound properly smooth, and I’d worked on the Mozart duet and Ashokan Farewell too. I also finally said I needed to walk away from the Berceuse, because I was fighting it so much that it was causing more problems that it was solving. My teacher said that leaving it wasn’t a problem; we’d revisit it later. Although, she added, I’d been making progress on it, even though I couldn’t tell. The Mozart duet had good parts in it, and I have notes to help me focus on string crossings and smoother shifts. We worked out better fingerings for the Bach that made it so much easier, so I’m feeling better about that too. I don’t feel as overwhelmed by it all any more.

Saturday morning I took the boy out to run errands with me. We dropped some books off at the Melange and bought two candles, one for Thanksgiving (the boy chose ice blue) and one for Halloween (the boy chose orange, naturally). Then we went to our local yarn shop, and I’d mistimed travel slightly; we arrived just on the stroke of eleven, and it hadn’t opened yet. The boy stood there and burst into tears, and wouldn’t listen to me when I said the we’d just sit and wait; he thought we were going home. (Yes, my son gets upset when the yarn store is closed. Of course, there is a toy fire truck there, and he loves the spinning wheel and the containers of yarn, but still.) I’d managed to get him to sit on the step with me and look at the new drawing app on my iPod when MA arrived with her keys and let us right in, bless her. “Are we going to be here for a long time, Mama?” he asked hopefully at one point. I told him that I hadn’t brought knitting or spinning to work on, and that we’d have to go home eventually for lunch anyhow, but I love that he was hoping we’d be there for a while. (It may have been directly connected to the fun he was having pushing one of the wheeled storage containers of yarn around like a train, of course.) We got all the fibre I needed to spin for various projects, plus a skein of yarn for another Yule gift and one to knit a hat with earflaps for the boy. Somehow my list of things to make for Yule has tripled in the last two weeks. I officially have what Ceri calls a Knitlist. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Saturday morning was overcast and gloomy, but the clouds were swept away for a bright though windy afternoon, beautiful weather for the wedding we were to attend on the south shore. Weddings of friends are always wonderful, because you get to see people you love in formal dress, something we don’t do enough of. I had the pleasure of handling the cufflinks for both the groom and best man, and assisted Jan with boutonnieres for the wedding party. (We were both on site early because t! was celebrating the wedding with assistance from HRH.) Lovely ceremony written by t!, sat with excellent people, touching speeches made by the best man and the maid of honour, and generally an all-round pleasant time. I want copies of the pictures others were taking because my own camera sat in my bag under the table. I think I was photographed more than I’ve ever been photographed at a wedding that wasn’t my own. Or maybe I was just standing with members of the wedding party a lot. We left around nine once the lights had gone down and the loud music had begun. There had been somewhat loud music throughout the meal as well, and I found myself kind of shouting to people across the table. Something irritated my throat in the middle of the meal and I had a coughing fit, which ruined my voice for the next day. All in all, though, we were with excellent friends celebrating a wonderful day, and it was a good time.

Sunday morning went out to Chapters to pick up the new TMBG kids’ album. I had deliberately waited a month and checked stock online to make sure it would be there. Well, it wasn’t. They looked on shelves, they looked in back, they finally concluded that it was somewhere in one of the ten pallets in back that had technically been received (i.e., someone had entered ISBNs, titles, and quantities from an invoice) but not unpacked. And the senior clerk I spoke with admitted that they were behind, and that it would take some time before those pallets were opened and shelved properly. I was thoroughly unimpressed. This isn’t the first time I’ve run into the “in stock but not on the shelf” issue at this shop, but it’s the first time they admitted to being so far behind that they couldn’t find it in the warehouse.

So the boy was disappointed (as were HRH and I, because we love TMBG’s kid stuff, too). Another book I wanted was also not on the shelves, despite there being twelve available according to stock check. I did pick up the copy of Amy King’s Spin Control I’d intended to come home with, though. From now on, I will call in advance, as much as I hate phones.

We did the grocery shopping, then I chatted with my mum and spun up another ounce of the yarn for my goddaughter’s Yule gift. We made cookies late in the afternoon, then I put the tiny cross-rib roast we’d bought in the oven for a somewhat unplanned Thanksgiving meal at home. It turned out perfectly, meltingly smooth, served with roast potatoes and carrots from the garden, drizzled with a separately-made onion gravy. Before we began to eat we lit the ice blue candle the boy had chosen for Thanksgiving and I asked if he wanted to say anything special. “No,” he said, “just Happy Thanksgiving.” I said I was thankful for food on the table, family and friends, and the roof over our heads, and the ability to enjoy our many hobbies and activities. And then we swooned with yum at the incredibly delicious food on our plates. The boy patted my hand during dinner and said, “I love you, Mama. Thank you for making this dinner for us.” He had seconds of potatoes and carrots, and ate every single piece of roast beef on his plate, impressing both of us. Oddly enough, he refused gravy. Once upon a time he wouldn’t eat anything unless it had gravy, so lo, we have come so very far. We’ve also come far in the successful roast beef department. Pretty much every roast I’ve done in the past few years hasn’t turned out the way I wanted it to for some reason. In fact, this one nearly didn’t; after roasting it for twice as long as I was supposed to it still wasn’t cooked through, so I hacked it into three pieces, laid the less cooked sides up, and roasted it at a higher temperature for ten minutes. The result was sheer perfection, so hurrah for my experience and instincts working together to actually get dinner on the table.

Once he was in bed I checked e-mail and discovered that I’d won… a copy of Amy King’s Spin Control in an online draw. (Insert whacking of forehead here. I am very pleased, of course, but also abashed.) So I will be returning the copy I bought and using the refund against the purchase of The Intentional Spinner, which they’ll need to order in for me. Not only that, I got a message from Aurora saying that she’d been in Vermont for Thanksgiving and had found a case of Vanilla Coke, and was bringing it home for me. An embarrassment of riches!

Monday we lazed about in the morning. HRH and the boy built a fort with a quilt and some chesterfield cushions, and the boy set up a Thanksgiving dinner inside it for all his stuffed animals with great enthusiasm. While he napped I spun up another ounce of yarn for the wrap. After his rest we went to HRH’s parents’ house for the official family Thanksgiving dinner, where I got another six inches of lace scarf knitted before dinner. Dinner itself was spectacular. The boy ate a staggering amount of turkey, half of it from the carving board before dinner itself, and the other half from drumsticks that he brandished like a pirate. He tried the stuffing and the purple cauliflower and passed on both of them, but ate several carrot sticks.

All in all, a lovely holiday weekend. Now we turn to winterizing, putting plastic over the windows and making things as efficient as possible. HRH put in the second outside window in our bedroom, and took out the screens in the boy’s room. We’d turned the central kitchen heater on last week and used the ceiling fan to circulate the warmer air when it went on, but yesterday we set all the room thermostats at 15 degrees, just to make sure things didn’t get too chilled. The outside gardens need to be fully cut back, and the compost spread over the beds, too. Snow has been spotted in the air not too far north.

What I Read in September 2009

A Princess of Landover by Terry Brooks
Language of Bees by Laurie R. King
Puck of Pook’s Hill by Rudyard Kipling
The Summoning by Kelley Armstrong
Men of the Otherworld by Kelley Armstrong
Rosemary & Rue by Seanan McGuire
The Demon’s Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan
Living With the Dead by Kelley Armstrong
My Life in France by Julia Child
Namaah’s Kiss by Jacqueline Carey

I’m sure I’m missing something, as there is a large gap between the Armstrongs and the King in my memory, but I can’t think of what it is. I probably reread something and didn’t note it down. I know I have four books on my bedside table that I’ve been reading very slowly: Pattern Recognition, The Drowning City, Music, The Brain, and Ecstasy; that’s probably what I filled it with. Yes, I read the first half of The Drowning City and the first two-thirds of Pattern Recognition. There! I feel better now.

A Princess of Landover by Terry Brooks: Why did I read this? Possibly because I enjoyed the Landover series more than the Shannara series (and no, I didn’t read all six trillion of them, I read the first two series as they came out then didn’t go any further). This book was on the new releases shelf at the library and I was looking aimlessly for another book to add to the two in my hands. It felt pretty empty.

Language of Bees by Laurie R. King: Oh, how I have missed Russell and Holmes. This had occult stuff and a tie to That Woman in it, so I was happy.

Rosemary & Rue by Seanan McGuire: I waited for this to be released, and am so glad the next two are coming out in 2010.

The Demon’s Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan: This disappointed me. I love SRB’s journal, and the reviews of Lexicon had me all excited, so I waited almost a year for it. And it was kind of meh. I like her characters (except the main one, and I now understand why he’s not as interesting), I love her dialogue, the world she’s created is great, but the story was kind of less than I wanted it to be and I’m not sure how or why. This is one of the books I got the library to order, and I’m glad I read it that way. This is not to say I won’t read the second one when it comes out; I like the characters and the world enough to find out what happens next.

Weekend Roundup

The weather’s turned crisp. Nice cool mornings, sunny days that don’t get too hot, and cool nights. I love this time of year.

Busy weekend!

Saturday morning I had a cello lesson, where I couldn’t hold more than one thing in my mind at a time. I warned my teacher that I was on the low end of the fibro scale, and she was patient with me, but it was rather amusing in a rueful sort of way to observe how I forgot about left hand when focusing on right elbow, and that sort of thing. Anyway, we have reached the Lully Gavotte, which amuses me for some reason. I think I’ve heard enough other people talk about working on it that it has stuck in my mind somehow.

When I got back HRH and the boy were in the garage, tuning up HRH’s bike and the trailer; they were heading out for a ride. They picked up hot dogs and french fries for us from the local drive-in, where the local hospital was doing their annual fundraiser. The boy charmed everyone by wearing his Superman shirt, his cape, and his bike helmet.

After lunch Ceri picked me up to head out to Ariadne, our favorite LYS, so I could pick up a magazine they had aside for me and she could choose sock yarn for a Christmas project. When we got there MA looked up and said, “Oh hey, I just got a cryptic email from UPS. Apparently they have received a 23-pound box from Louet for us. Now, I could be wrong, but something that heavy sounds like it probably has a wheel in it.” “Either a wheel, or a whole lot of yarn,” I said, but inside I was jumping up and down and squealing, “MY WHEEL MIGHT BE HERE THIS WEEK!” I did say, and MA agreed, that I’d believe it when I see it, and I am somewhat tired of hoping the wheel will arrive sooner rather than later, but I am cautiously optimistic.

I did recon on colourways for a Yule gift I’ll be knitting, and alas, they don’t have the one I want in the weight I need, so I shall have to track it down elsewhere or order it. I squooshed yarn and offered opinions on colourways while Ceri decided on her sock yarn, and we kept wandering back to the shelves of spinning fiber to pet them all. Ceri also bought me… er, my wheel… a gift of beautiful Lorna’s Lace fibre, lovely squooshy strokable superwash merino wool top in the Baltic Sea colourway, a lovely misty green/brown/heather symphony that I adore. (It may be my monitor settings, but the actual top is more subdued and has more grey in it than the linked page shows.) I cuddled it a few times in the shop, and told her that when I had my wheel and was proficient enough to spin sock yarn, I was going to buy it and make yarn so she could knit me a pair of socks. And she picked it right up with a grin and carried it to the counter to buy it. I am a very, very lucky person in my friends. I take the fibre out of the box I hid it in and pet it every once in a while. I would leave it out on my desk to admire, but I have cats who think fiber is stuff to sink teeth into and pull apart with joyous abandon.

We got home and knitted companionably for a while, with HRH and the boy wandering in and out. Then Jan and t! stopped by, later than I had anticipated. t! had called me earlier to ask about construction in the area, as he was going to be driving through on his way to the south shore for paperwork, and upon hearing that he was going to drop Jan to wander aimlessly around from mid-afternoon till the concert later that night I told him to drop her here instead. Due to the incredible space-bending and cardinal point-switching properties of the borough in which we live they got turned around and were late, so t! ended up very sensibly canceling his paperwork errand in favour of calming down instead of rushing and being stressed before the show. So there were a bunch of us knitting and eating brownies and drinking beer or other refreshing beverages, and it was an impromptu party. Then t! left for the gig setup and sound check, and the three of us knitted or sewed until Ceri went home for dinner. HRH’s parents showed up and we all ordered pizza from the local pizzeria. The boy settled down to watch a film with his grandparents while Jan and I worked on the back deck till it was time to leave for the concert. I don’t get to see Jan very often any more, and I miss her, so it was really nice to spend quiet time with her and chat.

The concert was fantastic, of course. We’re always predisposed to enjoy ourselves at an Invisible concert, but this was particularly good. I’m so proud of the guys for further refining and developing their sound and skill. The band was relaxed, the songs were tight, the new songs were lots of fun, and the company was of course excellent. I’d made the decision to not dance, as I’ve been suffering from low energy and low-level pain (no love, fibro) as well as the exciting back spasms, but when ‘Sheena is a Punk Rocker’ started playing and the rest of the Random Colour girls present leapt to their feet, I knew I couldn’t let them or the band down, during both that song and ‘Poor DeeDee’ which followed it. I seem to have survived the rash but enthusiastic decision quite well on the fibro side, but in the realm of non-fibro-related mishaps, while dancing I whacked my right hand against the lead guitarist’s headstock when he’d jumped off the stage to dance with us. I discovered the mild sprain in the car on the way home: a swollen finger that wouldn’t bend. The next morning it was an interesting shade of dark purple, still swollen and not bending. It gradually improved, and the swelling has now completely vanished, although it’s still mildly discoloured and is creaky when I bend it. It’s just not a punk concert unless someone gets injured. Fortunately it’s my bow hand, so it hasn’t interfered with fingering. I can’t count the number of times I was asked if I missed performing at the concert, and the answer is, yes, I do miss it. I always miss it, and it’s worse at the shows themselves. But I don’t miss the stress and the struggle to perfect things. The further away we get from working on music together, the more I understand what a huge challenge we set for ourselves in trying to arrange music for the selection of instruments Random Colour comprised. It would be interesting to work with a different set of instruments, or on a different kind of music.

Sunday was lazy, lazy, lazy! I couldn’t fall asleep till about two in the morning after the concert, and I initially woke up at five something, so the boys let me doze in bed for a good long while. When I finally dragged myself out of bed we all decided that we were having a really relaxed sort of day. We had nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do until HRH left to help ADZO move some heavy appliances. The boy and I napped, then watched some TMBG DVDs and read books. My mum called, back from a wonderful visit to France with her sister, and it was great to hear about her experience.

There; that was our weekend. Today has been an exercise in lack of focus and self-discipline, although I did bake a batch of bread and one of cinnamon buns, edit a review, and practice (hello Lully Gavotte!), as well as setting up for the next freelance assignment that is due on Friday. I’ve been fighting bad fibro lethargy for a while now, and while the lower back spasmy thing has pretty much passed, the exhaustion that follows physical illness or injury is still happening.

On Saturday I finished the increases on the yoke/cap sleeves of my short-sleeved sweater. The next row I get to bind off the edge of the sleeves, and then the next row I cast on shorter rows and join them to the front and back to start knitting the body of the sweater. Progress! I may even finish it before it gets too cold to wear short sleeves, although at the rate the weather is going I doubt it. The lace scarf is progressing nicely.

That’s all the news that’s fit to print at the moment. Maybe something more exciting will happen tomorrow, although I doubt it.

Ups And Downs

Friday’s score:

+1: Started and finished the freelance assignment. Hah! Put it aside to be proofed and submitted on Tuesday. (No point in racing to get it handed in on Friday; Monday’s a holiday and it wouldn’t get approved in time to invoice on Tuesday anyhow.)

+1: Lower back hurt so much that I yanked Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary out of my stack of reference books to use as a foot rest. Wonder of wonders, it fits under the desk, is the perfect height to take some of the stress off my back, and is surprisingly comfy.

+2: Good cello lesson. Also found out we’ll be playing Beethoven’s Eighth this fall with orchestra, as well as a Mozart overture, Schubert’s Rosamunde suite and something clarinety. (A bonus to studying with the principal cellist, who learns the programme ahead of time in order to do bowings.) Whee! I was hoping hoping hoping we’d do Beethoven with this new conductor! Good cello lesson stuff included dynamics and expression. Not-so-good stuff included intonation (stupid left elbow) and impatient sulky right wrist (who wants to lead like it used to and leaves the right elbow in the dust when I’m not paying attention). Lessons are officially set for Saturday mornings, Friday or Sunday evenings if my teacher will be out of town on Sat. (Note to self: I really need a mirror to practice with. I should cruise garage sales.) Also, I got group lesson material for the Christmas concert.

-2: Started reading two books, both pretty boring/badly written/not conducive to actually reading. Good thing two other books I reserved are in at the library (My Life In France and The Demon’s Lexicon, the latter of which I requested them to purchase, and they did!)

-1: Frogged all two inches of the in-the-round top-down short-sleeved sweater I started in April and tucked away in May, then pulled out to work on again two weeks ago. (Evidently I am not a summer knitter.) Frogged because I was increasing at every marker… including the one placed to solely identify the middle back as well as the four raglan markers at which I was supposed to increase, because I didn’t think the instructions through. Durr. Froggity froggity frog. Cast it all on again. I was surprisingly sanguine about frogging all that work and redoing it. Maybe it’s the lovely Harmony needles and the deliciously soft Pima cotton I’m using, or maybe I’ve achieved that knitting Zen thing. (Ha. Not likely. I think I just didn’t have the energy to get upset.)

Friday wins out in the plus column. I’m not counting the insane drivers on the highway last night who wouldn’t let me merge and the eighteen-wheelers who shoved me into lanes I didn’t want to be in.

What I Read in August 2009

The Magicians by Lev Grossman
Spinning Designer Yarns by Diane Varney
Iron Kissed by Patricia Briggs
Blood Bound by Patricia Briggs
Girl in a Blue Dress by Gaynor Arnold
Worldwired by Elizabeth Bear (reread)
Scardown by Elizabeth Bear (reread)
Hammered by Elizabeth Bear (reread)
Teach Yourself VISUALLY – Handspinning by Judith MacKenzie McCuin
Cross Bones by Kathy Reichs
Good Things I Wish You by A. Manette Ansay
The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz
Monday Mourning by Kathy Reichs
Holy Smokes by Katie MacAlister
Light My Fire by Katie MacAlister
Fire Me Up by Katie MacAlister
The Secret Diaries of Charlotte Bronte by Syrie James
The Piano Teacher by Janice Yee
Evita by Nicholas Fraser
Wesley the Owl by Stacey O’Brien
The Intentional Spinner by Judith MacKenzie McCuin
Start Spinning by Maggie Casey
Spinner’s Companion by Bobbie Irwin
Grave Secrets by Kathy Reichs

Quick notes:

The Magicians by Lev Grossman: I wanted to like this more than I did. The tone of the book kept me at arm’s length the entire time. And it felt like it was trying to be two different novels.

Cross Bones by Kathy Reichs: Why do I read Kathy Reichs novels? They get worse and worse. They’re so monotone. Actually, I do know. I like the forensic stuff. And the relationship and interaction between Tempe and Ryan. But everything else… ugh. No tension, poor writing. I’m stopping here.

Worldwired, Scardown, Hammered by Elizabeth Bear:
Just as good upon the third read as they were upon the first in 2005.

The Secret Diaries of Charlotte Bronte by Syrie James: Much better than I expected it to be. I couldn’t remember what I’d thought of the Jane Austen one she’d done a couple of years ago (I read a lot of Austen-focused stuff around the same time and they all sort fo merged in my head), but this was on the new releases shelf at the library so I brought it home. A pleasant read, and a decent imagining of what might have happened.

Out of the spinning books, I’d say The Intentional Spinner by Judith MacKenzie McCuin and Start Spinning by Maggie Casey are essentials to have on hand when you start out. They cover a lot of the same stuff, but explain it in different words and with different photographs (both are excellently illustrated) so you come away with an even better understanding of whatever technique you’re looking up.